Bound To This World
by Miharu-Watanabe
Summary: There are some things... that just can't be forgotten.
1. Intro

The girl couldn't run any further. She could barely even breathe. Millions of questions raced through her mind, but she was too weak now to even think about getting answers.

Using up what little strength she had left, she managed to make her way over to the murky stream ahead. It didn't matter what it looked like, water was water, and she needed it. Dropping to her knees and dipping a hand in it, she took a moment to faintly observe her surroundings.

Fog. In every direction, as far as the eye could see. Nothing but a thick, grey haze that not even the glow of the full moon could slice through. The girl had never been quite fond of the darkness itself, though her recent studies of nocturnal creatures could at least prepare her for what she might find out here.

But those worries would have to wait until morning. That is, if she survived the night. For as she settled down to sleep, she didn't notice the few pairs of bright eyes that watched her from the shadows.


	2. Chapter 1

The sun hadn't yet risen when the girl felt a sharp object lightly poking at her back. Thinking it to be just her imagination, she dismissed the feeling and shifted around. The ground was cold and wet. Not the most comfortable spot to sleep. But it was something she'd have to get used to if she never found a way to get back home.

A couple moments passed and she again felt something prodding at her. This time accompanied by the sound of someone muttering. Or, arguing, rather. She could just barely make out two separate voices. Letting her eyes and ears become adjusted to the morning, she turned her head to greet her strange guests. And strange was the perfect word.

The creatures that stood before her were unlike anything she'd ever seen. Practically unidentifiable. One was very thin and mosquito-like, while the other was big and bulky, almost like a toad. They both had blueish-grey skin, carried spears as weapons, and wore armor made of dead tree bark.

"Up. Get up." The thin one said, continuing to jab at her.

"What... what do you...?" The girl struggled to find words.

"No questions. Follow us."

She just nodded and did as she was told, following the two even deeper into the fog, which began to clear as they pushed on. What was this place? It was as if everything had suddenly turned hellish and dismal. The whole area looked like a swamp, surrounded by a completely devastated forest. It was a wonder how anything could survive here.

As they moved further on, passing more of this world's bizarre inhabitants, she could see their destination come into view through the gloom. A large, decayed tree sitting atop hundreds of skeletal roots. A dark, twisted fortress... like something out of fiction. A grim sight, yes, but oddly beautiful.

It wasn't long before the three of them came to a halt, the hefty one mumbling something to his partner and then turning to speak. "You stay," he said with a grunt. "Will return."

"O-okay..." The girl responded in a shaky tone, watching as they walked away. She hadn't even been here a day and already she felt like a prisoner among these things. She could only imagine what sort of torture she would have to endure for the next few years... or however long they decided to keep her.

It looked like she would find out soon enough. A couple minutes later, the guards returned, along with someone else.


	3. Chapter 2

Their leader was about two heads taller than she was, nearly towering over her up close. He had the same blue-grey skin as the others, but was more humanoid in terms of structure. One might say there was an almost vampiric quality to his appearance. He had amber eyes with scarlet irises, and a pointed nose tipped with a shade of light red, like a birthmark of some kind. The pelt of a bat was draped over him like a cloak, and he wielded a cudgel as his weapon.

Before the girl even had a chance to react, that cudgel was already pressed up underneath her chin, followed by a comment. "A little far from home, mh?" The leader said as he studied her. "Didn't anyone tell you it's dangerous to wander about? You could be killed." Though his tone was not one of concern. He and his goons would probably be rather delighted to take part in her demise.

"Who... who are you...?" She asked, cringing as she did so.

Shocked, the guards positioned themselves in an attack stance, pointing their lances in her direction. Their boss must have been quite a well-known figure for them to be offended by her question.

But he didn't mind introducing himself. "I am Mandrake, king of the Boggans and harbinger of Rot." He answered, pulling his staff away from her throat. "You have trespassed in our territory, and for that you shall receive punishment."

Ordinarily, this would cause her to panic. But as she listened, she found herself becoming somewhat relaxed at the sound of his voice. He spoke with a very distinct accent, a perfect blend of German and Austrian. Something about it was highly soothing to her ears.

"Fortunately for you, I'm feeling considerably benevolent today. A sickening sentiment, but your execution will have to wait." He motioned to one of the larger Boggans, who proceeded to grab the girl by the wrists and force them behind her back, as if she was about to be handcuffed. "Until then, we'll keep you in the dungeon."

She watched him and the others fade out of focus as she was dragged away and taken inside the hollowed-out stump. "What is this place?" She asked. It was just as hauntingly fascinating inside as it was on the out.

"Wrathwood," her overseer replied, continuing to push her along, "Boggan kingdom. Your kind not belong here." When they reached the dungeon, which was nothing more than a hole with a single "cell", he shoved her in and set up the bars. Sturdy, poison-tipped twigs. "Lord Mandrake kill little Jinn girl when he ready."

A look of confusion spread across her face. What did he just call her? "My name is Beatrice," she informed him, "and I'm not a-" but he was already gone. She sighed and leaned back against the damp dirt wall, pondering what was to become of her. _Perhaps my curiosity really will be the death of me_.


End file.
